


Let's Let the Musical March Move!

by CollistaForest



Series: Danganronpa Marching Band AU [2]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, M/M, Please Don't Hate Me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollistaForest/pseuds/CollistaForest
Summary: Kokichi Ouma joins the Hope's Peak High School Color Guard, slowly coming to terms in his sophmore year that he has feelings for the drumline section leader!Please also check out the Group Chat that is directly correlated with this! https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372637





	1. On Our Way

**Author's Note:**

> You can complain/comment/ask @me from my Tumblr!  
> Condescending-writer

He woke up annoyed, alarm blaring at 5:30am.

Kokichi Ouma was already prepared for today. He prepared once he knew the dates and times. His clothes rested at the foot of his bed while his bag and jacket hang from the door knob.

Once he switched his alarm off, grabbed his phone, and changed into the purple racerback and black jean shorts before slipping on the oversized checkered jacket. 

As quiet as he could, he grabbed his bag and ran down the stairs. He had a bit of trouble avoiding the stray wrappers and beer cans, courtesy of his parents.

Hitting the bottom step, he checked his phone. Finding no new notifications, he quickly paced into the kitchen. Ouma cleared off the beer cans from the counter to get to the cabinet. He brought down a reusable water bottle from the back and cleaned it out before setting it on the counter.

After getting down, he poured faucet water into the bottle before capping it off. He took a sip, as if testing it, and put it into a water pouch in his bag.

He set down his bag in the small empty place on the couch and walked over to the window. He used the reflection as a mirror and put his hair up in a ponytail.

Ouma didn’t want to have to brush the hair out of his face every five seconds, nor cut it, so this is his compromise.

He waited a few more moments, watching the clock turn to 6:00am, before running out the door.

With his bag on his back and his phone in his pocket, Ouma ran down the street to a friend of his.

Shuichi Saihara.

He sent the other a text before he arrived. It was a nice thing to do, y’know?

Ouma stepped up to the Saihara doorstep ten minutes of running later. He could hear the sound of someone running down the stairs and the barking of a spitz before he even knocked on the door.

Swinging open, the door revealed a half-awake Shuichi Saihara holding back a large, white spitz by the collar. The golden eyed boy blinked for a few seconds, taking in the sight before him.

“There is literally an hour and a half before we have to be there, Ouma.” He addressed him with a monotone voice and a blank face.

“Whelp, it’s time to get ready then! This week is chock-full of rehearsal! Nine-to-Nine, Saihara!” Ouma waved his arms around, as if it would push Saihara to get ready. However, the other boy just blinked a few times and let go of his dog.

Mari immediately pounced on the small boy, licking his face till it turned red.

“Mari- Mari no- Shu- Saihara! Saihara He- Help mehehehe…” He laughed until his stomach hurt, though he tried to keep as quiet as possible. He didn’t know if Saihara’s uncle was awake or not.

He stayed quiet, on the concrete, until the spitz decided to stop licking him and go for the front yard. He kept an eye on her while he waited for Saihara to come back.

Before she could get to the street, he called the dog back. Herding her inside, he slowly walked in as well, shutting the door behind him.

He marveled at how clean his entire house was. Even if four people lived there. Only three people lived at his house, and there was always a mess. Always a mess.

“Ouma, catch!” Saihara called from his right, at the top of the stairs. The taller boy threw a drawstring bag down the stairs, watching as the smaller caught it.

“Nice catch, guard boy.” Saihara teased, a small smile forming on his face before he disappeared back into his room.

“Oh, thanks a lot, my little drummer boy!” Ouma called back, just loud enough for Saihara to hear.

He heard a small snicker come from Saihara before he came back down with a thick binder full of papers.

“Is this the music for the show?” Ouma took the binder from him for a moment, almost like inspecting it.

“And the sets, and the leadership papers…” Saihara trailed off, thumbing through the papers.

“Wow, we're only sophomores and you're already in leadership!! And the section leader of the drumline!! Saihara, you are so amazing!!!” Ouma let a smile slip past his lips, he always took the chance to raise up Shuichi Saihara’s nonexistent ego.

“Save that ‘amazing’ comment for someone else, Ouma. The Drum Major, or even, your parents.” The short boy could only flinch at the thought of his parents. Amazing? Them? Sure, and the sky is always a lovely shade of hot pink!

“Speaking of your parents, why do you need me to drive you? Can't they?” Golden eyed Shuichi Saihara turned back to face the boy with eyes of lavender. He watched the blank stare on his face only last for a millisecond before small laughter spilled from Ouma.

“T-They always wake up around ten and whenever I try, I can't seem to get them to budge! No use missing an hour of camp for them and their sleep!” Well, not technically a lie. They do wake up around ten in the morning, but he's never tried waking them up. He's a bit too anxious for the consequences to do so.

He hadn't asked his parents to drive him to the camp, why bother? They would've said “no” either way. They would want to waste a single moment of their precious time dropping their only son off at something that is beneficial to his health. No, not at all. He even had to raise the money himself, working several low-paying jobs once he entered high school.

“Is that why you asked me for a ride?” Saihara mused, taking the bag and tried to fit the binder in. He had little difficulty.

“Yeah that,” Ouma smirked. “And I wanted to see how Mr.Shuichi Saihara looks when he wakes up in the morning. Right before his third cup of coffee.”

“Good luck on that, I've already had five.” The golden eyed drummer smirked back and god could Ouma see the dark bags underneath Shuichi Saihara’s eyes.

“SAIHARA NO!” He quickly covered his mouth, in fear of waking up an adult. Or get Saihara in trouble.

Taking a small glance at Ouma, Shuichi Saihara gave off a small laugh.

“Don't worry, Mom and Dad are out on a business trip. Uncle left earlier, said there was an important case he needed to look into. He was practically bouncing out of the door!” That made Ouma laugh more than he would like to admit. Only a Saihara would get excited about receiving a new case.

“Good to know I can be as loud as I want without any repercussions!” 

“No, it's still too early for that kind of stuff, Ouma. Please don't yell.” Shuichi Saihara grimaced before fully turning toward his friend, watching as Ouma opened his mouth to take in a large gulp if air. 

Saihara quickly covered his mouth with one hand before semi-glaring at the smaller boy. Ouma gave a small whine, prompting Saihara to move his hand before he got licked.

“Promise not to yell?”

“Sure, little drummer boy.”

“You are half a foot smaller than me!”

Ouma laughed and ignored Saihara in favor of rummaging through his fridge, trying to find something favorable for breakfast.

“Did you not eat before you came over?” He looked past the fridge door to find Saihara with a very concerned expression.

“Nope, I ran out of my house as door as I woke up to get here!” Ouma lied.

He closed the fridge door when Saihara called him over.  
“We're going to stop somewhere for breakfast, if you don't mind.”

“Don't mind, depends on where we're stopping, though. We gonna show up fifteen minutes late with Starbucks to band camp, Saihara?” Ouma sauntered back over to where Saihara stood, arms crossed and the bag on his back.

“With all the time we have, we better not be late.” Saihara grabbed his keys from a hook by the door and opened the door. He walked out, but kept it open for Ouma to slip out of the house.

“Hopefully I'll be able to stomach whatever you decide to choose for breakfast, little drummer boy.” Ouma passed Saihara and stopped by the small and dark car.

He waited as Saihara locked his front door and unlocked the car. He hopped into the clean passengers seat before Saihara even left the barely decorated porch. He could see his two flags passing through the seats of the car.

Once both were fastened in, Saihara drove the both of them out of the subdivision and onto the main road.

The silence that followed seemed deafening to Ouma. So, time to pull out those conversation starters!

“Who else is in leadership this year?”

Saihara seemed happy to answer.

“Umm, let's see…” The golden eyed boy seemed to go through the list in his head for a moment before telling. “The junior, Ishimaru, the section leader for the saxophones. Makoto Naegi, also a junior, section leader for the trumpets. Hajime Hinata, a senior, for the flutes. Me, with the drumline. Akamatsu, from our grade for the clarinets. And Tsumugi Shirogane, also from our grade, for the color guard.”

“Shirogane is the guard captain this year? Hmm, I thought it would be someone who’s a bit more… interesting…” Ouma looked over to the golden eyed drummer, fiddling with his bag in the floorboard.

“Honestly, I was a bit surprised as well. I thought either Akane or Junko would be the captain. Well, the director knows best…” Saihara took a small glance towards Ouma before looking back to the road, not liking the sight of the grimace on the others face.

“Yeah…” Ouma rubbed his eyes before shoving a new expression on his face. “Anyways, what do you want for breakfast, Saihara?” Fake enthusiasm, great choice.

“Umm, I was thinking either Dunkin Donuts or Panera Bread. What do you think?” Saihara turned left.

“You know me, Saihara.”

“Yeah, let’s go get donuts.” Ouma squealed in delight as they turned into the Dunkin shop.

Saihara put the car in park.

“C’mon, get out. We have enough time to go in and eat.”

“Alrighty, my drummer boy!” Ouma unbuckled and left the car, grabbing his wallet from his bag as he closed the door. He wouldn’t let Saihara pay for his food, even if it was only a few dollars.

The two walked into the small Dunkins and placed an order. Ouma grabbed his wallet, but was stopped by Saihara already passing a $20 bill over to the cashier.

“Saihara, I told you I would pay for my own breakfast!” A small frown adorned his face.

“Then you should've stopped me before I paid.” Ouma twisted his mouth as he saw Saihara’s smirk.

“You’re being awfully cheeky this morning for someone who is usually an anxious mess, Saihara.”

“Well, I haven’t had my first cup of coffee yet.” Saihara took back the change and stuffed it into his wallet.

“I knew it!” Ouma whisper-yelled, pointing his finger right at Saihara’s nose.

“Go find a table, Ouma. I’ll grab our breakfast.” Saihara gently put his hand over Ouma’s and brought it down. He was being too gentle. Far too gentle for what Ouma is used to.

“Fiiiiine.” Ouma slightly growled, though Saihara knew it held no threat.

Ouma grabbed a table near the wall and door. Close enough for, when they’re finished, a quick leave. He sat at the table for a moment, waiting for Saihara. Ouma messed around with the sugar packets and salt bottle, making a tiny fort around it.

He looked over to Saihara, who was walking back with two bags and a drink holder. Ouma basically sprung out of his seat to help Saihara bring the food over. He grabbed a bag and the drinks out of his hand before Saihara could tell him otherwise and sat back down at the table.

“Thanks, but you grabbed my food instead of yours.” Blackish-blue haired Shuichi Saihara smiled, still keeping up his cheeky morning attitude.

Ouma squinted at Saihara, pulled open the bag, and looked back to him.

“So it is.” Ouma switched the bag within seconds, covering his face with his bag as Saihara laughed. Why does Shuichi Saihara have to be so fricken cute?!?!?

“So, Ouma, I wanted to ask.” Saihara began pulling his coffee out of the drink holder, already grabbing creamers and sugar.

“Hmm?” Ouma already had his donut halfway in his mouth. He can't help it, chocolate sprinkles are great!

“Why do you need two flags?”

“Oh!” Ouma sprung upright in his seat, donut falling onto the bag as he used his hands to explain. “We always have two flags! Especially for the show this year! One flag is unweighted, so its very light. You can move around quickly with it and perform small tosses. The other one is weighted, meaning it's got a small weight by the silk and a larger weight near the other end! That one is heavier and you have to put more power into any toss you do! You also- why are you smiling?”

“You just seem so excited by the prospect of explaining ‘guard topics’ to me.” Saihara spoke softly through a smile.

Ouma grumbled as he stuffed his donut right back into his mouth.

“Why don't you try for Guard Captain next year?”

Ouma almost choked on his donut.

“M-me? Saihara, you and I both know that if I am Guard Captain, everything would go to shit very quickly!” He ignored the concerned expression on his friend's face.

“Ouma, you could at least try. There isn't much you have to do!” Saihara waved his bagel around for a second before taking another bit out of it. Ouma could see the blueberry flavoring on the inside.

“I'm just… I'm not sure it'll be a good idea for me.” Ouma started to curl back in on himself, however he was stopped by the other putting a hand over his wrist.

“Hey, don't worry. You have an entire year to mull it over. You don't have to make a decision right now.”.

Giving out a grateful smile, Ouma nodded to Saihara.

“I'll think it over. Thanks.” 

“No problem.”

The two left the Dunkin Donuts, climbed back into Saihara’s car, and traveled to their school. Making small talk on their way to the school, Ouma sat nearly upright in his seat, making a few comments as Saihara finished his third cup of coffee.

“Hey, Ouma?”

“Yes, Saihara?”

“Can I try to toss one of your flags?”

“Sure- wait what?” Ouma looked at Saihara in shock. “You want to try and toss a flag? You could injure yourself!”

He smiled.

“Then I'll take the necessary safety precautions. We are half an hour early, so around half the band should still be arriving. That'll give me enough space to make sure I won't hurt anyone. If you'll let me try, that is.”

Ouma thought it through for a few moments before sighing.

“Sure, as long as you watch me, wear my gloves, and promise that you will not hurt yourself. Understand?”

“Of course, as long as you promise to try to be Guard Captain next year.” Another uncharacteristically familiar smirk. Another meaningless glare.

“Fiiine.”


	2. Band Camp: Start!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma needs more practice, Munakata is here?

Kokichi Ouma find himself laughing more this morning than he have all month. Shuichi Saihara is just too ridiculous.

“Like this?” Saihara moves his hands again, still very much wrong.

“No, Hara, your right hand is under while your left hand is over.” He chuckled, watching the novice become even more confused. His face twisted and his nose scrunched up. It was too adorable.

“What?”

Ouma tried to prevent the next bout of laughter which tried to escape.

“Okay, here, watch.” Ouma stand in front of him, occupying the empty parking spot near where Saihara parked. He made sure the other was able to see what he was doing before explaining.

“Look, my left hand is over at the third tape, while my right hand is under at the tab.” Ouma looks over his shoulder at Saihara, seeing a flicker of recognition before copying.  
Ouma feels a genuine smile pull at his lips.

“Like this?” Turning around to fully face him, Ouma approves. 

“Perfect! Now, what you want to do is tighten the angle a bit. Bring your left hand to your shoulder and your right hand to your hip. Don’t forget to box out your elbows, we’re strong, Hara, not wimpy little girls!” Ouma could hear him chuckle and can’t help but give out a little snicker of his own. It left him before he could control it.

“Umm, when am I going to learn a toss?” Saihara asked, looking stiff, like a wooden figurine.

His posture is great, though.

“You’ll learn a pop toss when you learn how to do a cone properly! No use in wasting time teaching prayer tosses. They’re so stupid easy I could scream!” Ouma almost dropped the weighted flag in his own dramatic explanation. He seems a bit more…. smiley today.

“Pop toss?” He let’s the flag go, the pole resting between his shoulder and neck.

“Yeah, I’ll show you. Just let me get my gloves real quick, don’t want to mangle my hands yet.” Ouma hears him stifle a laugh as he moves back to the car. Good, he thought that as a joke.

He snached his bag from the passenger's seat, stopped to think for a second, then grab Saihara’s bag as well. He dumped the bags at Saihara’s feet, using the keys to lock the car. Ouma looked through his bag for a moment before bringing out his gloves.

He also takes out his water bottle, placing it near the bags.

Taking a second to put on his gloves, Ouma flexed his hand for a second, making sure they fit nicely.

Now, for a pop toss.

Easy.

“You might want to take a step back, I don’t want to accidentally hit you or anything.” He smiles, takes a few steps back, strips the unweighted flag, then watches Ouma.

Good.

He counts in his head, release on three, three full rotations, catch on seven.

Wait, it's… going too far left…

It's coming back down, the stopper is facing the wrong way.

Blink. Then another. And another. A sharp pain flies through his head. Ouma hisses through his teeth.

Fuck.

Ouma faintly hears Saihara drop the flag, It’s hard to hear over the ringing.

“OUMA! Hey, HEY! Are you okay? Ouma?” Ouma can feel him cover his head, applying pressure to the small area in which he hit himself with the flag.

“Heh, whoops. Guess I should’ve practiced a bit more over the summer. My bad…” It’s a lie, Ouma practiced in any spare moment he had during the summer. Not once was he not thinking about Color Guard.

“Ouma… are you okay?” Ouma took in his worried tone. His mind came up with 20 lies.

“Umm, yeah. I'm fine. I only bonked my head a bit, heh. I'll be fine in a moment” He slowly remove Saihara’s hands from his head and replace them with his own.

“Can you… please get my water bottle?”

“Yeah, one second.” He places the cold bottle in Ouma’s hand and the smaller immediately puts it on the slight bump.

“I think we should go in now, you can teach me more at a later date.” Saihara grabs their things.

Ouma can see him, from the corner of his eyes, putting his black hat on. He can feel himself becoming disappointed before he knows why.

“Could you hand…. hand me the flags, please?”

“Yeah, here.” Ouma presses the bottle on his head with his right hand while he takes his flags with his left. The splitting pain in his head fades slightly.

“Let's go and get you some meds. I'm pretty sure you don't want to feel like this all day.” Ouma nods along with whatever the other says, giving him the lead into the propped-open band room entrance.

The few already here at 8:26am stare at the two for a second before going back to what they were before.

Nekomaru Nidai and Akane Owari are practicing a duet piece they've been working on for the past few years. Nidai playing a C# on an impossible-to-lift bass sax as Akane pulls out a tondu while flipping a purple and red swing flag.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru,Tenor Sax, is talking with Mondo Oowada(Bass Clarinet) and Chihiro Fujisaki(Pit member). He seems to be lecturing them, both of their heads are down, muttering apologies.

Saihara drags them past Toko Fukawa(Pit member), quickly sitting Ouma down inside the Band Director's office. He's already pulling out a first-aid kit.

He looks a bit worried.

Watching as he picks out a blue pill bottle, Ouma lowers the water bottle, unscrewing it as Saihara hands him two painkillers.

“Take two now. Come find me during lunch break and you'll get two more.” He starts putting everything back, keeping the blue bottle in his drawstring bag.

Ouma nods, taking an outstretched hand to rise to his feet once again.

“Well, we have around half an hour before Band Camp starts. What do you want to do?”

“Hmmmm,” Ouma gasps dramatically. “Hey, can you tell me about your summer? I haven't got to hear what you've done yet!” Ouma puts his things back in his bag for now. He'll pick them back out later, when he needs them. 

The two pull out two chairs from the five-high piles, placing neer where they usually sit in the high-roof room.

Ouma waited for Saihara to start talking first.

“Okay, umm, so, my uncle and I went to the USJ. I got a Ravenclaw tie and wand. My uncle got a few chocolate frogs, only thing that showed up on the cards though was Helga Hufflepuff! We got around five or six and all of the cards inside were of Helga Hufflepuff!” Ouma snickered as Saihara waved his arms around, as if to emphasise his struggles.

Honestly, Ouma only knows the bare minimum about Harry Potter, so he’s not going to fight him about this.

Sitting and listen to Saihara speak is… It's just…

He could sit and listen to him speak for hours. His voice is… Enrapturing? Mesmerising? Perfect?

He doesn’t know.

“BAND, TEN HUT!”

The forty-or-so band members freeze into a ‘perfect posture’ position. Shoulders squared, elbows back, eyes up, chin up, knees together. All facing the band director, Mr. Munakata.

“Rehearsal starts in 10 minutes. I expect you all to be out on the football field by then. Bring everything out with you. Leadership, I need you to bring the water coolers to the field. Fill them up at the concession stand, Mrs. Ishimaru will be waiting for you.” He stepped off of the podium, dismissing the band to stand with Mr. Izayoi and Mr. Sakakura.

“Well, I guess that's me. I'll see you in a few.” Saihara stood, readjusted his hat, then went off. He followed the rest of leadership out of the band room doors leading to the school. 

The rest took the doors to outside.

Ouma grabbed his things and followed Akane Owari and Sonia Nevermind to the field, both in color guard.

“I accidentally left my weighted flag at home, my parents basically rushed me out the door!” Nevermind, sweet sweet Nevermind…

Today would to be hell for her, with how windy it'll be in the morning, if we toss outdoors today. Her flag might get caught with the wind, fly further than everyone else's.

“Can you get your parents to bring it?” Owari brought her finger to her lips, as if thinking.

“Already tried that, I'm afraid. They left for work as soon as I stepped out of the car. I barely got out in time!” The two laughed together, leaving Ouma awkwardly standing at Nevermind’s left.

While they walked, Ouma brought up a new point for the conversation.

“Say, what do you think the new silks will look like for this season? Or even, what do you think this season's show will be?” 

“Umm, I dunno really. I mean, last years we had the, umm.”

“Last year was the Kind Midas show.” Ouma supplied.

“Yeah! Then, the year before that was the Colorblind show, then the Out of…”

“Out Of Time show.” Nevermind began to unroll her flag.  
Owari and Ouma followed her lead.

“The Out of Time show, right! So really, the next one can be anything. Honestly, I'm going for a food-related show!”

“You're always in the mood for food, Owari.” Ouma shook his head, smiling.

“Hell yeah I am! I can't wait till lunch! Then, after that, I won't be able to wait for dinner!”

“Crap… I forgot to bring a lunch… But, you did say the Mom's will prepare dinner again this year?”

“Yes, I spoke with Kiyotaka Ishimaru’s mother earlier. She and the other mothers will be providing us with dinner, not lunch.” 

“Dang, alright then. I'll just have to wait for dinner then.”  
Nevermind stopped Ouma just a few steps outside of the gate to the football field. The sun has been up for an hour now, though, it's already burning hot and bright. It hurts to look at it.

“Please, Ouma. Have some of my food. You already look like skin and bones. I'm a bit concerned, are you getting enough to eat at home?” At her mention of home, Ouma can already feel my head ache more.

“Okay, so I might've skipped a few meals at home-”

“A few?”

“Yes, a few, but it doesn't really matter. I'll just siphon off some of Hara’s lunch. I was there when he packed it, there's enough for two!” Okay so that first part was a lie, but who cares? Really? But, Shuichi Saihara did pack a ginormus lunch… 

Does he…?

No… No…

“Anyways, if that satisfies you, Nevermind, I'm going to see what is in those boxes over there!” Ouma ran without hearing a reply. He didn't really need one. He needed to be away from their questions for a moment and just have a quiet moment. Alone.

He ran ahead of the small group, placing his things on the wall separating the stands and the track.

The entire flutes section is already ready. Togami, Komaeda, Nanami, Hoshi and Yumeno placing them in a circle, leaving a spot for the section leader, Hinata.

Only two clairentes(Rantaro and Fuyuhiko), a trumpet(Koizumi), and a sousaphone(Yamada) were fully ready.

The drum major, Junko Enoshima was already sitting on her podium. From here, Ouma can see that she is texting.

Who? Hell if he know.

All he’s been told from the graduating class is that he needs to stay away from her. 

He’ll heed their warnings.

In favor of Saihara, Ouma ignore the boxes at her feet. He runs straight from his spot to where Saihara is dragging in a 10 gallon water cooler.

“Need a bit of help?” Ouma hears him snort a laugh.

“Yeah, could you stabilize the cooler? It'll be easier from there.” Ouma stands at the other end while Saihara continues pulling. Ouma tries to steady the cooler.

He didn't know coolers could be this heavy holy crap.

The two eventually make it back to the other side of the track in a minute, or less. They don't know, who's keeping time?

“Thanks, I needed that.”

“No problem, little drummer boy!”

“...Anyways. Mr. Munakata will be here in a few seconds. We're apparently getting our dot books and chips today.”

“Apparently?”

“Apparently.”

He left to go talk with his section. Ouma almost didn't want him to leave.

Ouma caught himself wishing Saihara would stay before he smothered the thought. Saihara had things he needed to do, Ouma knows that.

He knows that.

“BAND, TEN HUT”

The field was quiet within the second.

“Alright, good morning. I need you all to get into a single file line. Mrs. Naegi will be passing out dot books and chips. Your section leader should have your dot sheets. Now go, you have five minutes.” Mr. Munakata dismissed us. He isn't much of a people person.

When Ouma reaches her, Tsumugi already has the drill sheets ready. She has them spread out, upside down, in front of the rest of the guard. She explained that the drill sheets would be chosen at random.

Ouma gets third pick.

Ouma gets Guard No. 1.


	3. Time to learn the basics!

Tsumugi drags the guard back inside after they receive their dot books. They won't be using them until tomorrow.

Today is all icebreakers and learning the basics. 

Well, not really. The guard learned the basics at clinics two months ago. The most they’ll do today is revise and perfect.

Cones, small tosses, flourishes, rowboats. That’s all they’ll probably get to.

Nothing too hard.

The color guard meets in the cafeteria during sectionals. The school board doesn’t want them inside, but Mr. Munakata managed to convince them to let them use a small part of the cafeteria for their work. They need someplace to work inside, don’t they?

According to the instructor, Ms. Yukizome, they’re only going to be in there until lunch before the guard has to leave.  
The cheerleaders have the cafeteria booked from 12 to 4.

The guard will get the area back soon enough.

“Alrighty, girls! Now, we've got the area from 9 till 11, Let's make it count!”

“Excuse me, Miss. Yukizome. Not everyone in here is a girl. I think you might’ve forgotten from minicamp, but Kokichi Ouma is in here as well.” Thanks, Celestia, he really appreciates that.

“Oh… OH! I’m sorry! I completely forgot about you Ouma!” Great, that’s absolutely fine.

“It’s okay, really! People do tend to forget about me a lot. And, I guess I could be mistaken for a girl on a good day!” Brushing off attention is fun. Fine. Fine and fun.

Ugh, he hates band camp.

“Alright, now that we’ve gotten that cleared up, let’s go around and do an icebreaker!” Miss Yukizome made all eight of us sit in a semicircle. “For this icebreaker, we’re going to state our full name, something we like and something we don’t like!” She vaguely gestured to her left for someone to start.

“Ummm, okay. My name’s Aoi Asahina! I like donuts, but I hate calculating anything!”

“So you despise maths?” Nevermind asked.

“Hate it!”

“My turn, My name is Celestia Ludenberg. I enjoy gambling, though, I can’t really stand heat or car crashes…”

“My name is Sonia Nevermind! I like studying the occult and Japan! I hate the taste of sour plums.”

“I’m Akane Owari! I Like to fight! And eat! I don’t like working hard, though…”

“My-My name’s Mikan Tsu… Tsumiki. I like the smell of isopropanol and dislike anything that’s oversized…”

“I am Tenko Chabashira! I like nunchucks and despise men!”

“ Should I start running then?” Ouma mused.

“No, you’re good.” Then, her voice got lower, as if threatening him. “For now.”

Should he be scared?

Probably.

“Welp, my name’s Kokichi Ouma! I like soda, especially grape panta, and hate pig feet!”

“Why pig feet?”

“Dunno, Aoi. Why donuts? That’s a lie, I don’t care.”

“Ouma, that’s a bit rude. Anyhow, I’m Tsumugi Shirogane. I’m going to be the guard captain this year. I like EVA foam and hate disorderly queues.”

“Alright, that’s all we’re going to be doing for now. We have another game planned out for after lunch. Until then, let’s get to work! Everyone, please grab your weighted flags!”

“Shoot!”

Ouma snickered.

~~

“Hey, you okay?” Yasuhiro Hagakure, as helpful as ever, helped me to my feet.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I think I blacked out for a bit. Not enough water I guess.” I take a few steps back, adjusting the harness once.

“It’s fine. Five minutes till lunch, and besides, we can’t have our section leader passing out on us!” Hagakure would be a nice person to hang out with. Well, if he didn’t act like an idiot half the time.

“Now that you’re back on your feet, could you tell me which part we’re at? I don’t want Mr. Gozu to notice.” 

Sure enough, Mr. Gozu is working with Sakura Oogami and Ibuki Mioda. And sure enough, Hagakure has no idea what we’re doing. I direct him to our current place. We did one more run through as a group.

Simple work.

Mr. Gozu checked his watch.

“Oh, crap. I guess it’s time for lunch, isn’t it? Well, have fun!” Then he just… left. He’s gone.

He has the keys to get back inside.

“Where in the world did he go?”

“Ibuki’s confused, how did Mr. Gozu disappear?” Ibuki started the walk out of the stadium, the three of us following after.

“He didn’t disappear,” I started, racking a few pieces of information around in my head. “While we were distracted, he ran off into the parking lot. He already drove away for lunch.”

“Ooooh.”

“Ibuki thinks that makes a lot of sense. She thanks Saihara for pointing it out!”

“You are fairly clever, Saihara.”

“Thanks. We should get going now.” After waiting for a small bout of agreements, I started walking across the parking lot to the school. Sure enough, the doors were locked. I sighed, so it’s going to be that kind of day, huh?

“It’s locked… any other way we could get in?” Surely someone has a good idea.

“Umm, I dunno man.”

“Ahhh, OH! IBUKI KNOWS! The guard is practicing the cafeteria! They still should be in there now, they could let us in!” Mioda jumped up and down on the sidewalk, well, jumped as much as the harness and drum let her.

“Great idea, Mioda. We should be able to get in from there.” Sakura lead us to the cafeteria doors, a minute away.

We stopped outside the glass wall, looking in through the windows. Inside, the guard seemed to be doing drop spins.

You could tell Ouma was over it within a second. He looked as if he was trying to keep in a groan of frustration. It was endearing, in a way. He was passed this skill point, he didn’t need to do this twenty times over.

Mioda knocked on the door, rapidly, startling the guard.

You could see the instructor's mouth moving, a look of shock, then more speaking. Ouma put down the flag and came over to the door nearest us.

“What can I do for you, drumline?” He smirked as he popped his head out the door. I’m the first to meet him.

“Could you let us in? The band door to the band room is locked and we don’t have anyone to unlock it for us.” He looked as if he was mulling it over in his head as if this were a life or death situation for him.

That’s adorable.

“Only on one condition!” He stood up straighter, letting his smirk devour his face. “You have to share half of your lunch with me!” 

“Sure just l- wait for what? Half my lunch?”

“I saw you pack it, Hara! I know there’s enough for four in that bag!” I looked over his shoulder. Sonia Nevermind was standing there, looking partly relieved and partly worried.

“Umm, sure. Please let us in, ‘chi.” Ouma smirks and moves inside the door, leaving an opening for us to get through. I went through first, making sure the snare didn’t hit the sides of the door, that’d be bad.

Ouma let the door go once everyone was inside, practically skipping past everyone to grab his flags and bag. Then, he walks his way back over to us, putting his entire being into my personal space. I don’t mind it as much as I think I should.

“The trumpets are already on their way, as well as the guard. Everyone else should be wrapping up now.” Nevermind, who was directly behind Ouma, spoke in her unusually regal tone. She scares me sometimes. 

“Thank you, Nevermind. We should hurry, I know Mr. Munakata won’t give us any extra time to put the drums away.” Ouma looked a bit confused.

“They take a bit of time to get on and off.” Sakura took the lead, bringing us to the band room at an even faster pace than we were walking before. 

We passed Hiyoko Saionji and Mahiru Koizumi talking to each other over a camera. Kyoko Kirigiri and Peko Pekoyama, both from the baritone section, musing over the height of someone they know. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu trailed them, grumbling something about ‘wearing heels’ and ‘not fair’.

I had well enough information about Kuzuryuu to know not to laugh at his misfortune. Maybe if he had drunk more milk as a child, he would be taller? Maybe it was an unlucky draw from the gene pool?

Who knows.

It doesn’t stop Ouma from teasing the centimeter taller blonde. Peko ended up holding Kuzuryuu back while Ouma was restrained by an oncoming Maki Harukawa.

Honestly, it was a hilarious sight to behold. I had a small amount of trouble keeping a straight face as I dragged Ouma away from the scene.

“You can’t keep getting into a fight like this, ‘chi. You’re going to ruin your reputation like this.” He groaned and swatted my hands away from his arm.

“It was just a little joke, but then he went and tried to punch me! Then Harukawa tried to strangle me! Really ‘hara! I think she might’ve left a bruise…” Rubbing his neck where Harukawa restrained him, Ouma let out a little groan of frustration. “I swear, that woman is an assassin hired to kill me!”

“Now, ‘chi. Don’t you think you’re taking it a bit too far by calling her an assassin? She was just doing her job as a person in Leadership. She was just keeping everything in check.” I put my hand on his shoulder, he is the perfect height after all.

“I’m just... I… I should apologize to them, shouldn’t I? Would it be the right thing to do, ‘hara?” He put his empty hand on top of my own, lightly squeezing it before letting go.

I nod, then realize he can’t see me and respond verbally. A simple yes would do for now.

He then takes my head and drags me to the band room, leaving me stumbling behind. I am barely able to run with the snare and its harness.

“Whoa, ‘chi, chill. I… I can’t run well with the harness!” I can feel the smirk radiating from him, only slowing slightly and continue at an uneven pace.

We enter the band room quietly, only five others are still in here.   
Leon Kuwata and Miu Iruma, both facing off with alto saxophones, playing varying songs.

Keebo Iidabashi, a bass clarinet, standing behind Iruma, looking unimpressed with her current antics.

Sayaka Maizono and Kaito Momota, both mellophones, rooting Kwata on from behind a stack of stands.

Ouma puts his things down near a conglomeration of other flags and takes the water bottle from his bag.

I excuse myself for a moment to take the snare and harness off into its case. A minute after figuring out which case is mine and actively putting the snare away, I join Ouma back at the band room doors with both mine and his lunch in hand. I had noticed all throughout freshman year, he would never bring anything to eat from his home, only occasionally buying something from the cafeteria to eat. So, I packed extra for us to share.

Was that a bad move? Does he not want to have something from someone else? Will he not like what I have to offer? What if he-

“C’mon ‘hara. You’ve just been staring at the bag for a few minutes now. Is everything okay?” Ouma stands in front of me, confusion shown on his face as clear as day.

No, I’m sure I know the liar well enough. He can’t get sick of me yet.

“I’m okay, ‘chi. Let’s go quickly. We only have 34 minutes left for lunch, now.”

“Oh shit, you’re right…”

Suddenly, he’s grabbing my hand and dragging me along behind him again.

I can keep up this time.

“RUN ‘HARA RUN!”

“‘Chi! I’m still not that fast!”

“Then pick up your feet and let’s go! I still need the meds, remember!?”

“Oh yeah.”


	4. Let's go home!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frickety frick I'm so sorry! It literally took me a month to get this chapter out....

“You did packing up yet, ‘hara?” Ouma stood above and behind the other as Saihara put away the snare drum once again. Guard was a lot quicker to clean up, but the twenty-minute long guard-chat afterward had them ready to leave well after half the band has left. The guard always has one thing or another to talk about. Be it dates or advice, they always run on.

A few more latches and a lot less talking, the two were ready to leave five minutes after.

“Okay, now that we’re out of there, ‘Hara, how do you feel about UDF or Dairy Queen! I could get a cookie dough blizzard from Dairy Queen, or a single scoop of Superman in a chocolate-sprinkled cone at UDF! What would you get?”

Saihara, who was once again behind the steering wheel, thought for a moment. What would he get? Would he decide on DQ or UDF, or even a different place? Would he get ice cream? A snack? Topping? No food at all, even? Just a drink?

“‘Hara, you're doing it again.” The other slowly and tentatively graced Saihara’s arm with a brush of the fingers. He could feel the hairs spring up, electric with a warm feeling.

“Wha… What am I doing again?”

“The cute little muttering thing you do sometimes! The whole thing would be annoying if it weren't for that impossible-to-hate face of yours. Honestly, I'm jealous.” Ouma spread the tips of his fingers against his chest. Quickly closing his eyes for a few seconds before opening them a hair, looking solely at his taller friend.

Saihara scoffed while rolling his eyes, Ouma is, and always will continue to be a flatter.

“You probably shouldn't be. It's like having your thoughts displayed for the entire world to see, and I can barely control it… It's…”

“Unbearable sometimes?” The passenger had a shockingly intense amount of complete and total understanding in his voice. “That's just how this bitch of a world be, ‘Hara.”

That small line earned a small snort. Small input, small output.

The two continued to talk until they reached the United Dairy Farmers nearest their homes. With it being 11:07 pm on a Monday night, it would make sense Dairy Queen was already closed. UDF, however, never closes.

Saihara went first, getting cookies an’ cream in a small cup. Ouma, however, got Superman in a chocolate drizzled and sprinkled cone.

Overall payment ended up being less than five dollars. Ouma paid before Saihara had the chance to take out his wallet.

Picking out a small table, the two continued to chat about pointless things. Neither of them failed to pick up the conversation through mouthfuls of cheap ice cream.

Saihara saw Ouma lean back against the whitened metal of the chair, the coldness must be doing wonders for the slight sunburn on his back.

Though the second portion of the day was cloudy, it did not mean you couldn't get burnt. Gundham Tanaka, a tenor sax, found this out the hard way. He went home bright pink at the end of the day. His pain at the expense of Kazuichi Souda, a marimba in the pit, whose laughter filled the lunch room in moments.

Shuichi almost laughed in remembrance.

“And that,” Ouma tossed the rest of the waffle cone in his mouth and continued,”is why you should never leave your mellophone on the field unattended. I mean, really! I could have sprained my ankle on the thing! It's huge!”

“Hmm, so what I'm supposed to be getting from this story is you've almost damaged the entirety of the mellophone section? Well, that's not saying much, there are only four.”

“Yeah, there's Maizono, Tojo… umm, that weird junior, Ikusaba and… Heck, who else?” Ouma raised from his chair and started to scratch his neck as the two proceeded to leave the establishment. Saihara grabbed the napkin in Ouma’s hands and threw it and his own cup and spoon away.

“Momota, you’re forgetting Kaito Momota.” Shuichi supplied easily.

“Oh yeah, you mean the guy in our year who’s obsessed with stars and has a fuck-ton of bull-shit metaphors tucked away in his stupidly purple pants.”

“‘Chi, that’s not constructive criticism!” Saihara chucked out through his laughter.

“Okay, you may be right, but you can't deny that his pants aren’t ridiculous and unnecessary. I mean, I’m surprised he hasn’t passed out on the field yet from being overheated.” He stopped for a second, smiling as his friend tried to take in a breath through all of his laughter.

“Actually, I think the reason he hasn’t been overheated yet is that Maki has been throwing shade at him all day…” Ouma stops to laugh along with the other, both finding it hard to hold in their laughter.

After getting into Saihara’s car, and buckling up, of course, Ouma turned up the AC until a cool blast of air hit him squarely in the face.

Shuichi would later compare him to a cat who finally discovered what catnip is.

“Hey, would you like me to drop you off at your house or do you want to walk there?” Saihara took a second to memorize the look on Ouma’s face. The other looked, contemplative. 

Almost as if he was trying to choose between a life and death scenario. Which, in this case, is utterly ridiculous. Why would Ouma need to be afraid of showing Saihara his home?

Speaking of, it has been a while since Shuichi has seen the place in question. The two have been friends for years now, but Shuichi has only seen the inside of the house once. Back when the Ouma family had just moved in. Kaiami Ouma used to be outside every night, getting to know the neighborhood. Inadu Ouma used to work on wood projects outside, taking his time to build a wonderful deck.

Then, the two receded back into their home, only showing up every once in a while. Kokichi was often the one who did the shopping, the one who ran errands, the only one in the house to show face for over five years.

Yeah, it's been five years since Shuichi had seen Kaiami or Inadu Ouma. He was barely sure they still existed until Kokichi talked about them earlier this morning.

Saihara will settle to assume they've just become more shy people. 

It's better than his other theory.

“I guess you could drop me off at my place. But be quick, it's already 11:54pm.” Ouma decided.

“Alright then, we'll be there in five.”

The rest of the drive was drifted through a comfortable silence. Kokichi continued to mess with the air vents.

“Thank you for driving me, ‘hara! Now I'll just get out of your hair for a few hours while you wash it.” Ouma grabbed his bag and hopped out immediately once he stopped. “Bye-bye!” And then, slammed the door shut, waved goodbye, and vanished into the house.

Saihara got a good look at it from the outside. All the lights inside the house were off, not counting the easily visible television shining bright into the living room. Some windows has cans of a sort cluttering the sil, preventing it from opening without causing a mess. There are cracks in some of the bricks and windows, while the flowerbed is a complete wreck.

Now he can understand why Kokichi doesn't want people here. He feels like it can only be worse on the inside.

Saihara wants to know how Ouma has been living all these years...

While sneaking out of the house is a thrill, sneaking into the house is a nightmare. Ouma quickly jots down this in his mind as he shuffles past the empty cans again. God, he hates this trashed house, but he cannot clean faster than how quick his parent's mess doubles. He stopped trying two years ago.

He also can't help but notice how much louder things become in the dead of night. He learned his lesson over three years ago, when he tried to microwave some leftover chicken and accidentally let the microwave beep. He probably still has the scar on his back.

The shower is quick and cold. Ouma is only in long enough to wash the dead skin, dried sweat and sun lotion off his body. He is quickly walking back to his room before the faucet has stopped dripping.

He walks into his bedroom, or, as he likes to call it, the cleanest room in the entire house. Kokichi is shivering as he changes into some loose night clothes and slides into bed.

Ouma wishes for something to fix his life. Or even, just fix his family.


	5. Missing!

  “You're going to like today.” Saihara starts off once Ouma enters the car. It takes him a few seconds to process the words which just came out of Shuichi’s mouth.

  “Huh?” 

  “You aren't even awake yet, are you?” Shuichi can tell fairly easily. Ouma’s eyes are dropping quickly and his movements are too sluggish for him to be considered fully awake.

  “Listen here, Hara. I had to stay up until four in the morning to stave off threats to humanity from outer space. Those aliens are so persistent and annoying. I only got an hour of sleep, so I don't wanna hear it Mr. I Took A Shower Then Passed The Fuck Out.”

  Shuichi took a second to pass a confused look to his friend before rolling his eyes and starting the car.

  “What I mean is that, since we've gotten our drill, all of today is just going to be learning it. We might get most of the opener on the field today.” Shuichi turned on the radio, keeping it low.

  “Oh hELL YEAH! Drill is so much better than learning dance work!” Ouma took a small price of candy out of his bag and let it roll around in his mouth. “The only thing that sucks is when Mr. Sakura tells us to run the same three sets over and over again. And when I say run, I mean  _ run _ .”

  “Yeah, drumline drill is the easiest thing. We had around twenty moves is the entire show last year.” 

  “Drill is gonna start to suck when we get some work for the show, though…” Ouma, being as immature as he is, put his feet up on the dashboard, almost touching the glass.

  Shuichi, smirking, pulled Ouma’s feet off of the dash, nearly missing the center console and landing in Saihara's lap.

  “No feet on the dash.” Ouma whined at the words, but didn't try and move his feet away. With his back against the door, Ouma pulled out his phone.

  “Any messages from the group chat yet?”

  “Nothing yet. I mean, it's only been in creation for, like, three days now. It might be that not everyone has gotten used to using it yet.” Ouma set his phone down on his stomach, crossing his arms and looking out the window.

  “That… sounds about right. Say, how do you feel about the rest of the sophomores in the band?” Saihara took one hand off of the wheel and let it rest on top of Kokichi's legs.

  “Ummm, well. I've gathered that Miu is definitely a bitch, and Tenko isn't as nice to boys as she is to girls… most of the sophomores are cryptids and socially awkward nerds. But they're all pretty cool people, mostly nice.”

  “Hah, mostly cryptids…” Saihara pulled his hand over his mouth in order to hide his laughter. When the car stopped at a green light, Saihara put his head on the steering wheel and laughed, causing Kokichi to smile and giggle as well.

  Soon, after a bit more small-talk and silence with the radio, the two arrived at the school, smiling and laughing. They walked into the  _ very  _ loud band room, in which most of the students were playing their instruments or playing with the pit equipment.

  Kirumi Tojo passes by them, on her phone and heading towards the instrument storage closet. The closet is more of another room than a “closet”, to be completely honest.

  10 seconds pass and they hear a notification pop up on both of their phones simultaneously. Saihara, immediately curious, opens his phone to look at the message.

  Apparently, Rantaro Amami hasn't shown up yet and practice is going to start in thirteen minutes. After watching Tenko put in a few lines, Shuichi starts putting in a few lines from some Sonic theme song and Kokichi cuts him off in the message.

  And, well… you know how this will go.

  During lunch, Saihara found Ouma sitting at a circular table alone, waiting.

  “Hey, Chi.” Saihara put his lunch down on the table and looked over to Ouma, who appeared to have some difficulty in breathing. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I'm good. I just think…” Ouma sat up, putting his hand on top of his chest and slowly taking deep breaths. “I think I've been wearing it for a bit too long.”

  Saihara didn't need any clarification as to what Ouma is talking about. With context clues alone, he could've figured it out, even if he wasn't been Ouma's friend for a while. He'll, he was the one who  _ got  _ it for Ouma.

  “Maybe you should take it off… Have you been wearing it longer than you should?” Saihara placed his hand onto Ouma's back, tracing small circles with his index finger as hes talking to his friend.

  “I think so… especially with all of the “being physical” thing now. I also think it's a bit too… tight.” Going through his head, Saihara tried to come up with an idea to help. He cannot relate to what Ouma is going through, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try and help.

  “Yeah, I think you should take it off for now…” Ouma tried to speak, but with placing a hand between Ouma's shoulder blades, Saihara continued. “You can wear your scarf till you feel like you can put it back on. I just… really want you to be safe, Chi.”

  Meeting Saihara's eyes, Kokichi nodded in agreement. 

  After eating his lunch, Kokichi changed out of his clothes and into a completely different outfit. He put on his scarf, readjusting is slightly till he thought it would work, and shoved his previous attire into his bag.

  He took out his water bottle and fanny pack from the bag and left it in the instrument storage room, inside his locker.

  He didn't think twice about it.

  After lunch, the entire band worked on learning more and more drill until dinner came once again.

  Saihara and a few others, Celestia Ludenberg, Kaede Akamatsu, Ibuki Mioda and Tsumugi Shirogane, sat down at the table with him.

  Being the talkative bunch they are, Kaede and Ibuki did the most talking while Ouma interrupted them with jokes and memes. Saihara, Celestia and Tsumugi stayed silent most of the time, only giving small input to the conversations.

  “So, does anyone know where we're going after dinner?” Ibuki, cutting Tsumugi off for nearly the twelfth time in the past 10 minutes, directed the question to the three section leaders at the table.

  Looking at eachother, Tsumugi, Shuichi and Kaede looked for any messages from the instructor.

  “It only says for everyone to meet in the auditorium, but I dont know what for.” Shuichi looked for any other messages and came up empty.

  “Huh, thats not plainly suspicious at aaaaaaall.” Rolling her eyes, Tsumugi put her phone down and laughing. Soon, everyone at the table was laughing.

  “We… We should probably get going. Better early than on time.” Kokichi and Shuichi lead the group to the auditorium after throwing away whatever garbage they had collected during dinner.

  Sitting near the front of the room, the group continued chatting with each other until anyone was given further instructions. 

  The rest of the band slowly filtered in from the cafeteria, making the auditorium become louder and louder with each incoming group. Ouma highly resisted the urge to cover his ears.

  Then, everyone was in and Mr. Munakata silenced them all without saying a word. He went back into the box that controls the lighting, sound and the like while Mahiru Koizumi, who was qualified, lowered the baton with the projector screen on it.

  Once she came back down from the stage, the screen lit up, displaying a youtube video. Soon, they were watching Blue Coats, Broken Arrow, Phantom Regiment, The Cadets, The Blue Devils and the like.

  The entire band loved it. They continued watching show after show until dismissal, hyping everyone up. “We can be like them, we can have a great show like that too!” That was the main idea in everyone's head. A single collective thought, like a hive-mind.

  Kokichi grabbed his bag and quickly went to Saihara's car, quickly shooting him a message. After a few replies, the car unlocked, letting Ouma into the car.

  Continuing to read the messages in the group chat, he stopped… Was he missing anything? Nah, no one is dumb enough to steal from him… right?

  Quickly going through the bag, he found  _ it  _ missing. Frantically looking through his bag, he couldn't find it anywhere. It wasn't in with his clothes, where it should be. It wasn't in the pockets, inside or outside. He  _ knows _ it wasn't in his locker…

  In his panic, he threw out some angry messages to Iruma, which wasn't a good thing, he knows. He's just…  _ really  _ not happy right now.

  In a few seconds, Shuichi comes out to the car, his noteworthy hat missing from his bag.

  Together, they calm down. Kokichi tells him what's missing and Saihara nearly flips out. They both report the missing items to Kirumi Tojo and sit how they were this morning while driving back home.


End file.
